Real friends are a blessing. They’re the rocks that keep you standing tall, even when life keeps tripping you up. They’re the rock that balances you, the rock that steadies you, and occasionally the rock that hits you on the head just to knock you back to your senses. They’re the fossil-aged rocks, carrying wisdom collected over millions of years, and sometimes they’re the empty shells that only exist to drag you into a laugh.
Having the support of a few people who truly understand your struggles makes all the difference, especially when they’ve walked through similar storms. They can spot your pain even when you’re laughing, even when your “perfect mask” is in place. No mask fools them. They see right through it.
But here’s the catch: too many rocks can become… well, a landslide. And that’s exactly what it feels like when you’re part of a giant menopause group with hundreds of ladies. Everyone’s venting, crying, raging, or laughing at once—it’s like living the same struggle on repeat, multiplied by a hundred. Instead of relief, you end up carrying their symptoms along with your own, like buying a group ticket to the hot-flash rollercoaster. Support is good, but constant reruns of the same misery? Draining.
That’s why a small, steady circle of people who genuinely care is worth gold. Moving together chapter by chapter through life’s mess isn’t selfish, it’s smart. You don’t need a crowd; you need companions who pace with you, understand your story, and hold your hand without holding you back.
I am blessed to have a few solid rocks in my life, and honored to be theirs too. I don’t need many. I just need the right ones: strong as mountains, wise as fossils, but still soft enough to shed tears with. So choose your rocks carefully. After all, you’ll be leaning on them when the ground shakes. And remember: they’re your rocks, but BE CAREFUL! The good ones also throw themselves at you from time to time, just to keep things interesting.
Dana Obeid
